My Editor Ate Me
Ha ha ha, the joke's on me. I thought the Marketing Monster was gonna get me. Then I met the Editing Monster.
I got my edited manuscript back the other day, along with instructions designed by a Demon-In-Training on what to do with the comments. I can see why I paid 2 cents a line. There's at least one comment on every single one of the lines in one hundred and ninety eight pages.
Am I laughing yet? Trooper that I am, I started editing the edits. After three hours, I had completed twenty out of one hundred and ninety eight pages. No matter that I was watching Boston (home sweet home) get its a** kicked by New York/Jersey (barf! puke! retch!) in the playoffs, I'm sure I wasn't distracted. I'm also sure the Editing Monster was eating my soul.
I will have to:
- find my soul and put one of those antibiotic bandaids on it
- quit watching the playoffs
- go to church and pray the Editing Monster falls on hard times (if they even let me into the church; it's been a while
- pluck out an eyeball
- wait...I need it to read the edits
- maybe I can do them with one eye
- quit bitching
- and just do the damned edits.
Interesting side note: editors certainly do their job with zeal. Not only were typos and capitalizations corrected, the editor changed words here and there to conform to proper usage. I can see her point, but good grief, if I were into proper usage I would: